Since the household goods arrived, most of my time has been spent unpacking boxes. These days, I often find myself wondering if the packers purposely write cryptic and misleading descriptions of the box contents. For example… six dish packs (large 18"x18"x28" boxes), all marked “Kit Glasses”. Now, I do own a lot of glasses, but not that many.
It took me two and a half days to find my large Tupperware containers full of flour. Were they in any of the three boxes marked “Tupperware”? No. Apparently, in packer lingo, that designation belongs to anything in the general vicinity of the kitchen that is made of unbreakable material. I finally found the flour in one of the “Kit Glasses” boxes, in addition to the body of my KitchenAid mixer and not a single piece of glass…
In unpacking the spices (which were not in the box marked “Spices” of course), I noticed a couple of the bottles were missing the labels. These are little round labels glued to the tops of the bottles so the spices can be easily identified in the spice rack. But the labels were nowhere to be found, not in the paper, not in the box, and I don’t recall seeing them in Indian Head… Hmmm, perhaps one of the packers knows someone named Ginger (they are nice looking labels)… but wait, that does not explain the nutmeg label.
The best box inscription of all goes to the living room box marked “Intendo”. What does that make the next generation machines? “Super Intendo”? “Intendo 64”? Anyone want to come over and play some Intendo? A game of Etris, perhaps?
In the midst of my first day of unpacking frenzy, I got a call from gung-ho Matt from “Moving Company A” about scheduling the delivery of our household goods… “What? They delivered yesterday?” Ooops. I guess Thomas never told them.
I am happy to say the house is finally starting to look like more than a mini-storage unit. It is very nice, very new and much bigger than our old house. Lots of kitchen counter space and the counters are off-white, just the color of unbleached flour – very convenient. And I can hardly wait for the luxury of hanging pictures on flat walls rather than our Dali-esque walls in the Indian Head house.
The weather has been quite variable since we've been here with highs ranging from 50 to 95. However, the one thing that is reliable is the wind. It tends to be calm in the mornings, but then really picks up in the afternoons and evening. At night, the howling wind is reminiscent of that Star Trek: Original Series episode where Harvey Mudd is supplying women to the lonely men on the harsh mining planet. Too bad there is no water for sailing the boat in all this wind.
Although I had heard reports to the contrary (that Navy/Marine Corps rivalry thing), all the neighbors are really nice. We’ve been inundated with welcome gifts of food (mainly sweets) and have been eating them for breakfast. The lady who lives directly behind us, informed me that she made us some chocolate chip cookies, but then ate them all in a fit of depression. I am beginning to see why they call it 29 Pounds instead of 29 Palms.
And I imagine that I’ve really impressed the neighbors with my ability to summon the Fire Department within the first week of arrival. As soon as I finally located the elusive flour, my mixer and some bread pans, I got busy making bread (RWT was actually tiring of cookies for breakfast). I turned on the oven and soon smelled a bit of gas. Not a lot, but the smell of incomplete combustion that happens when the burner needs to be cleaned. So I called RWT, who called housing to let them know the oven needed servicing. A mistake. I then received a phone call from housing telling me not to be alarmed when I heard the sirens. Great. Any mere hint of a gas leak and they are required to call the Fire Department.
The firemen arrived with all the predicted fanfare in full suits with respirators and electronic gas detectors. After determining there were not dangerous levels of gas in the house (my calmly standing there observing them should have been the first clue), they took off their respirators… sniff, sniff… what is that smell? It smells like… bread?!? Yes, I had put the bread in the oven while I was waiting for them to arrive. I suspect they were thinking: "crazy Navy wife."
So here we are, a bit embarrassed but safe and sound with the majority of our possessions intact and unpacked. Gee, I can hardly wait until the next move.
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